2013.03.19 - Madripoor Mayhem pt 2
Waited too long. Missed her chance. Domino's sitting shotgun in the overpowered Shelby as it rolls down the street, the Mosin in her hands as she cranks the bolt open and lets the spent casing pop out to land somewhere on the back seats. She gets it unloaded and partially disassembled, examining the bore by holding it over the dashboard and staring up toward the sky through the rifling. Surprisingly clean, all things considered. "Should find a polymer stock for this thing, shave another three quarter pound off of it. Take a left up here." It's been some time since she's contacted the two people she's taking them to see. Chances are that no one has forgotten about anyone else, though there's no telling what level of crazy might result. "Here. Big Blox. Go ahead and pull into the open bay." On the outside it looks like a fairly ratty building. Cracked cement, corrugated metal panels, a cheesy little sign with a hand-painted V8 intersecting the two words. Simple, mostly unforgettable, very easily overlooked. "They do love their muscle cars around here." There's a smug air of self-satisfication as Roy drives -his- overpowered Shelby Cobra GT500. So what if he was following Domino's directions with an eye on -her- gun. So what if the occasional look she flashes him tells him he would be wiser to keep -quiet-? It was a friggin' -muscle car-, baby, and he was at least going to enjoy it while he had it! Pulling up to the open bay, Roy gets out, lowering his shades as he inspect the surroundings. "Yeah, well, that's why I got this car," he notes. Not that it -really- would do him any good, from the reactions he was getting. "But you're going to make me ditch it anyway... so I'm guessing, this is where you're gonna trade it in?" "How you want to waste your money is your own call, Harper," Domino nonchalantly replies while reloading the mag and locking the bolt closed. "I'm back in the neighborhood and the people here could be helpful to our cause. Best to touch base -now- rather than after shit's hit the fan and we have no choice. Normal people enjoy social visits more than business. Hard to believe, I know." With the car in the bay she steps out and holsters the cut-down rifle across her back once more. Sitting in a car with it wedged up against her shoulder and spine is quickly turning out to prove most uncomfortable. "Hey, Seven! You around?" Seconds later there's the sound of a door opening, someone -quite- energetically talking to an unseen buddy as she steps out of the office and into the shop proper. In a city full of the dregs of society, 'Seven's' defiance is easily spotted. Every inch of her attire is glossy and synthetic, from the silver PVC cropped vest and shorts to the strappy black knee boots and fishnet which appears to be woven black wire rather than cloth. Her lips are all chromed out, as well. There's a bulky belt slung about her hips and a slightly thinner collar about her neck, a pair of high-tech gauntlets covering each of her highly animated hands and a pair of mirrored imagers are keeping her eyes concealed. Two short black antenna jut back from behind each ear, giving her an almost insect-like appearance. A pair of integrated speakers make shre that she can hear everything that no one else can. "--That hack's a total Diver, can't do nothin' for himself! Didya hear about last week, that punk callin' himself 'Prefix,' or some bogus? Yah! That's an absolute question void, brothah--hey, hold a few cycles, wouldya? I got customers." Without skipping a beat nor waiting for a response the woman's hands reach up and snap the imager onto her forehead with a pair of soft clicks, silver and blue-painted eyes lighting up from across the room as she spots a familiar patched face. "Domsies! Son of a fuck, what brings you to this shithole country!" Roy rubs the back of his head, staring uncomprehendingly at the young energetic woman. "Seven...?" he says, one eyebrow arched almost right into his hairline. Pushing his shades back up the bridge of his nose so that his eyes are concealed and therefore less readable, Roy's lips twitch slightly. "Somehow I get the impression we're not trading in the car here. Not unless I want an UFO." Turning back to Seven, Roy offers a hand. "William Bard. Pleased to make your acquaintance." "Not that I didn't expect there to be complications, regardless," Domino mutters while slowly rubbing at her forehead. "I see either your energy levels haven't dropped or you're still popping that 'Skour' shit." "No, I'm totally high," Seven brightly replies while taking Roy's offered hand. "One part little black pill, fifty parts energy drink. Name's Austin. Seven's part of my working name--" "She's a -hacker,-" Dom quickly cuts in. "--As a hacker, yah. So what brings you creatures out--" she suddenly cuts herself off, wild eyes falling upon the muscle car the two had driven into the shop. "No..no, no, -no!-" she cries out, leaping away from Roy to stand beside the car, arms held out wide. "Oh my -God,- what--who--why would anyone -do- such a thing?!- Mister Shelby, sir, I am -so sorry!-" she practically weeps while dropping to her knees beside the car and raising her hands up to the sky. "Your brilliance does not deserve this level of blatant disregard, those responsible shall be punished! Retribution shall be yours!" Dom slits an eye open and looks back to Roy, almost afraid to meet his gaze with the outburst. "She can be a bit of a handful, yeah. If it has an on switch, is powered by a big block engine, or can get her high, she's all over it. Bonus points for all three." "Who cuts a hole in the hood of a five hundred?! This blasphemy cannot stand!" "Great, she's high as a kite," Roy asides to Domino as he watches the hacker fling herself on the muscle car. Rubbing his temples, Roy shakes his head ruefully. "Ahhhh, hell. Been like that, but..." Letting a low whistle escape his lips, Roy watches the young woman appeal to the heavens, before looking towards Domino. "So we're here to ... touch base, and trade in the car for services?" "Not..exactly," Domino hesitantly replies with a distant sigh. "If we left a car like that here there's no telling what might happen to it. You bought it, enjoy it while you can." And see what happens when you go running around a city like this with a car like that. It's part of that whole 'let's grit William up in a hurry' thing. "Point is, she's good. The Feds have been trying to find her for the last six years, turns out that high-energy concoction of hers can give her quite an edge when it comes to cyber-evasion. Gotta use her skills now before that crap fries her brain." The merc noisily clears her throat, then snaps her fingers twice. "Yo, Austin! Pull your shit together, you're needed on the floor!" The matter of the defiled classic seems to be behind the hackerette, hands falling upon her hips as she glances between the two. "Gotta job?" "Yeah, what do you know about an arms auction going on in the area--a big one, between here and a week out." Austin looks fairly blank, "Why are ya askin' me?" Dom rolls her eyes and takes a step closer, flicking the imagers back across the techie's line of sight. "Because -you- have the power to find out. Make yourself useful and help a lady and her travel companion out, wouldya?" "You two..are -no fun.-" Austin swipes a gauntleted hand across the air in front of herself, spins about on a heel, and starts wandering out into the shop while her hands jab at the air around her. "That girl's off her damn rocker," the albino mutters. "Unless you've got a better idea, this is what I have to work with. Hal runs the shop proper, unless we need a tune-up or a new set of wheels he won't be as much use to us here." "Fine, I'll get rid of it somewhere else," Roy sighs. There's a brief look of -pain- as Domino quite clearly lays out what Austin's ultimate fate is, and for a minute, he seems about to protest. But this was neither the time nor place to have that discussion, and for once, Roy exercises the greater part of valor. Instead, as Domino seems to know how to handle the young woman, he leaves that job to her, and nods. "So Hal won't take this set of wheels, not with -her- around." Flashing a grin, then, Roy leans back against the hood of the car casually. "So we've got an arms dealer, a hacker, a mechanic..." And jerking his thumb back at the general direction of the Black Lagoon bar, Roy adds, "And our own information service. All we need now to get around is to get in good with the Triads and everyone else, while keeping ol' Sweet Cheeks happy. Ain't politics fun?" "Answer me truthfully," Domino presses while wandering around where Roy stands, the fingertips of one hand splaying across the sun-baked hood of the classic car. "Do you -really- want to trade it in? Or do you want to enjoy her while you can? --The car, Roy." From inside the shop there's an irritated grunt, Austin's hands rapidly panning across the air in front of herself as though she's frantically clearing off a dry-erase board. "WORK with me here, honey!" Glance to hacker. Glance back to Roy. "I'm sure he'd take the Shelby if you're ready to be more sensible. Though before you go trading it in, I want more time behind the wheel. It's not like anyone else is crazy enough to do this to one of these cars." Little time passes before Austin starts wandering back to the two, now wearing an amused expression from behind her imagers. "Got somethin' for ya. Straight-up solid, check this. I'm gonna go ahead and guess that you're referring to the Asian Armaments Expo taking place over the next two days aboard the repurposed oil tanker -formerly- known as the Red Dolphin and -currently- known as the Buraddi-bi. For all you non-Jap speakers, that's 'Bloody Sun.' Charming, right? Happens once a year, no one's figured out which nationality to stick to it so it's whoever cuts to the chase first. Started back in the seventies, originally focusing strictly on Asian weaponry, hence that title. The US is still kinda pissed about the loss of their tanker, but what can ya do? That's a more recent acquisition. Popularity of the event has, obviously, soared." Dom leans back enough to watch the approaching tech. "Can you get some specifics of the layout printed off?" Austin nods vigorously while hopping back onto a pile of tires, reaching to a nearby wheeled table to snatch a partially empty energy drink. Before she can take a swig of it Dom's plucking it from her hand as she walks past, sniffing its contents then wrinkling her nose in disgust. "What is this shit anyway, antifreeze?" "S'called Cobalt. Probably 'cause it's blue." "I call it disgusting," she counters while dropping the can from thumb and fingertip into the nearest trash bin. "Don't know -how- you can live like you do." Austin sits in an exaggerated 'woe is me' fashion, "Par for the territory! Everything's gettin' faster, gotta learn to hardwire your brain to keep up. By the way," she says while reaching straight up and twisting an index finger around to face the door to the office. At the same instant the sound of a laser printer springing to life can be heard. "Your homework's over there." "Are you kiddin' me? Enjoy it while I can, of course," Roy grins. "Being sensible..." There's a pause as Roy studies Domino's expression, before he holds his hands up in surrender. "... is gonna keep me alive longer in this town. But dammit, it's a damn sweet ride." Glancing wistfully at it, Roy pets the hood. "... you're not gonna give me the keys any time soon, are you?" he mutters, before he looks up towards Austin as she approaches. "The Bloody Sun. Great," Roy mutters. "They might as well have called it the Kamikaze. And it's invitation only, I bet. Which means we got to get ourselves an invite too." At the look Domino gives him, Roy elaborates. "You think Contact would ask us to do it when she could just go herself? No, she's trying to keep her hands clean. We're on our own on this one. She'll give us the weapons, and so very carefully keep her fingerprints off, for plausible deniability... what? I'm not, you know, an -idiot-." The question about the car keys is met with a toothy grin, "Nope!" Though it's already been proven that he's capable of starting the car without them. Jerk. "See, that's the thing," Austin promptly cuts in while flicking the imagers back into position along her forehead. "Invite-only would be -way- more hassle than these guys wanna deal with. They want the money! It's a ship out in the middle of nowhere filled with scary big nasty toys and scary big nasty thugs. Someone causes trouble or gets outta line -there,- 'meatgrinder' doesn't begin to explain it. Either everyone plays nice or it's a massacre in a can. Neutral territory, s'what I'm sayin.' You got money, you got transportation, you're on the floor." "Guess that solves another problem," Domino thinks aloud. When the matter about keeping one's hands clean she slowly turns to look at Roy, a slight edge crossing her tone as she asks "I suppose you wouldn't have any idea what -that- feels like." "So Domsie, is that all why you're here? Ya know it's all solid with me, girl. Just miss the company and the crazy." Crud. Well, it -was- meant to be a social call, but that kinda fell through some time ago. Back then it had been to keep the tech's mind centered on something useful. Now, it would seem that even Dom can't put business aside for five minutes. "Yeah," she admits. "Another day, another pile of shit to do. Thanks for the help." "Huh... thanks, kiddo," Roy grins. Which is probably wrong considering Austin must be a little bit older than he is, for all her crazy attitude making her seem younger. Looking at Domino blankly, just a bit slow on the uptake about keeping hands clean, Roy tilts his head. "Huh?" is his brilliant reply. "Wait, why wouldn't I -know- about that...?" Sighing, Roy looks back towards Austin, before grinning. "Don't worry about it. We'll be back, before you know it. Guess we're just gonna get on board and..." There's the sound of a car roaring. "Aw no, NOT AGAIN!" Category:Log